Ocean Lovers
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The wind dropped to nothing as the night fell. We made sail, though we could not see a thing and it was too dark for us to navigate properly. It was an hour before dawn when we sighted land. At first, I thought that we were approaching the Cape but soon saw that it was the southwest coast of Africa.
‘We are close to the island of St Helena,’ said my uncle as he peered at the map. ‘We’ll be there within twenty hours.’
‘Is that where we’re going?’ I asked. ‘Why do you want to get to St Helena?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘To meet some old friends. And also to pick up cargo. It’s not every day that one hears about such things happening—the wrecking of a vessel belonging to Lord Nelson, and its cargo found in the hold being auctioned off. That’s what they say happened over on St Helena.’
I nodded eagerly. ‘But why go all this way to collect something from them? Why not stay closer to England and go by ship?’
My uncle sighed. ‘I am sure that would have been best, but these matters are always very complicated, and often take quite a bit of time to sort out. There was no choice—it was either travel over here or wait until next year. Now let’s make haste so that we can get there as quickly as possible and collect our cargo. But first, how would you like to take another look at your sister again?’
It seemed odd that after spending the entire morning talking about her and even touching her hand, I wanted to see her again. Perhaps it was because I had never seen anyone else with the same dark skin color. Or maybe it was because she was a woman and I hadn’t touched her since childhood, except perhaps to playfully bite her bottom lip.
My uncle must have sensed my desire as well, for he laughed quietly to himself and turned back towards the bow. In the distance, I could just make out the light of a bonfire.
As we drew closer, the sound of drums grew louder. The drumbeats grew in strength and tempo until they sounded like someone beating their feet against a wooden floor while running. The music then changed, and it took me only a few seconds to realize that it was coming from the natives who were on board the Portuguese slave vessel.
At first, I thought they would attack us, but then I realized that if they did they would lose most of their valuable cargo of slaves. Their drums were signaling something to them, but I wasn’t sure what it was. A few minutes later they set off in the direction of the island.
We followed them, making sail as they ran along the shore. The drums were still audible behind us, and we heard shouting and singing as they disappeared into the dense forest.
‘Do you think they will follow us to St Helena?’ I asked my uncle.
‘Not likely. They may run out of steam by tomorrow afternoon if we keep going at this rate. Then there won’t be any more problems. Let’s stop here tonight. This is as close as we can get. You will need to stay awake and watch over us in case there are any attacks by the natives.’
The drumbeats continued long into the night. As I lay in my hammock staring up at the sky, the stars began to sparkle above me. One of them, a bright red star, reminded me of her lips and I felt a strong urge to kiss one, or perhaps both, of them. Just thinking about kissing them made my mouth water.
I knew that she wasn’t a real girl, but somehow it didn’t matter. For some reason, the image of her lips filled my mind. It was hard to sleep, and I couldn’t help myself imagining what would happen if she really were a woman.
She would put aside all her fears of danger and run to my arms and we would fall together into the darkness of our bed, and I would hold her tight, and feel her body against mine. What would it be like to touch those soft, full breasts, to press her down onto my naked skin, to feel her tongue exploring my mouth?
And yet it wouldn’t be true love, because we would never share a bed together. If she were really alive, I’d probably never see her again. Even if the two of us did ever meet, I knew that it might not be like the stories that the sailors told on the sea.
When the sun rose, we had left the drums behind us, and we had covered some distance on a calm sea. The crew seemed content. Only my uncle and I were tense, trying to guess whether the drums were meant as a warning for us to steer away from St Helena or to continue straight ahead.
By noon we had passed the point where we should have arrived the previous day. The weather continued fine, and there weren’t any signs of trouble. My uncle seemed to sense our concerns as well, and he spoke to us quietly.
‘We must continue on as we are doing now. We must not show fear to the natives, even though they may be hostile to us at times. They are a warlike race and have fought many battles against each other throughout history.
They will also attack others, including our ships when they have a chance, as they did to the Dutchman yesterday. That is why we need to avoid being attacked at all costs. They will only be satisfied once they have captured some of us for slaves.
I am afraid of nothing, and neither should you. If we show weakness in any way they will seize upon that to gain victory over us. And do not think it will be easy for you to win a fight, even with the pistol in your pocket.’
I wondered how many men he had lost in battle with the natives in the past. He smiled at me before turning his attention back to the steering oar.
For the next five days, the drums kept us moving northwards, with us making only slow progress. My uncle would speak to me occasionally, asking me if I felt anything unusual in the air, or whether the drums sounded differently from what we were used to hearing at home.
When I said no, he told me that this could mean we were close to the end of our journey. I tried hard not to let my hopes rise too much.
The weather remained fine, but it began to grow hotter. There was a little breeze, and I spent much time lying in the shade under the trees along the side of the ship watching the water lap against its sides as it passed underneath. We were traveling along a narrow strip of beach which led inland through thick jungle vegetation.
On the fourth day, the drums stopped altogether, and we moved on without them.
‘It seems that the drums are not important anymore,’ my uncle said in a low voice as we watched the sun setting in the west. ‘They have either given up following us, or we have gone beyond their area of operations.’
That night my uncle slept very lightly, tossing in his hammock. I lay beside him for most of the night, holding his hand. The sound of the wind lapping against the hull, mixed with the steady pounding of the waves, filled my ears.
In the morning I woke to find a strange light in my uncle’s eyes. He looked as if he had seen something terrifying in the depths of the night – an old memory perhaps.
Later on, I realized that I was still lying in his arms. He hadn’t woken, and I didn’t want to leave his side. My eyes followed his face as he turned away from me, and sat down to eat breakfast. As I stared at him, my heart sank within me.
In my dreams I had always imagined him waking up first thing every morning, ready to start work immediately. This was the first time I had seen him sit there, looking like a stranger. I wondered whether it would remain this way forever.
Afterward, I helped him with his chores, while the captain went hunting on land. After lunch, we took turns with the steering oar, taking us closer to Cape Town. But we didn’t make very fast progress. It seemed as if all my uncle wanted to do was sleep, or stare blankly into space. I thought I saw a shadow of fear in his eyes at times.
‘How does it feel to be a slave?’ I asked my uncle one day after dinner. We had both been standing by the railing on the top deck when someone called out to us, saying that the ship was about to hit rocks.
‘I am glad I’m not a slave,’ my uncle said as he came back to me, ‘because I have seen enough pain in my life already.’
We stood staring at each other, neither of us speaking for a long time. At last, I turned away, knowing it was better that way. For the rest of the trip, I couldn’t help thinking how different things would be between us from now on.
We were finally approaching Cape Town. It appeared that the ship was running short of supplies; the barrels and casks stored beneath the deck were almost empty. My uncle had decided to head south along the coast until we reached the mouth of the great river that we had heard of in passing. He said we could stop at some villages there, and buy all that we needed for the voyage ahead.
‘I hope they don’t get too friendly with us,’ my uncle said with a grim expression as we sailed past some tall rocky cliffs and small fishing boats bobbing in the sea. The captain was steering us into a cove where some houses had been built close together near a large rock.
‘If I remember right, you’re not very good at languages,’ my uncle said as he handed me a piece of paper and pointed to a few words written down on it.
I studied the words and then translated them into English: ‘Please, my friend, will you give us shelter? Your help is greatly appreciated.’
My uncle laughed. ‘Yes, well, I think these people understand that.’
I gave the note to a man who was standing outside his house. When he read it, his face lit up with pleasure. He opened the door of his hut and invited us in.
As we stepped inside I saw a table set up in the middle of the room; several men and women were sitting around it drinking a drink. There was laughter and talking everywhere. They welcomed us in with a mixture of suspicion and excitement, but I felt a warm sense of welcome nonetheless. A boy who looked as if he might have just left school ran over to me carrying a bundle of fresh leaves.
‘Here you go,’ he said and placed the bundles on the table, before running off again. I picked up one of the leaves and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled wonderful.
‘What is it?’ my uncle asked, pointing at the bundle of leaves.
‘These are the leaves that you use to make your medicine.’
‘Medicine!’ My uncle looked startled. ‘You mean, this plant is good for what ails me?’
‘Yes.’
The men gathered around the table burst into laughter and one of them said something. The woman next to me laughed out loud, which caused others around her to laugh too.
‘What did he say?’
I shrugged.
‘He said you look like a doctor! You know a lot more than you should.’
I looked up at him and smiled.
A tall man dressed in black came over and bowed low. ‘Welcome to our village, sirs. Please come in and join us.’
There were five of us in total – me, my uncle, and two sailors who had accompanied us. We followed the man into another building and sat down on stools in front of a large fire burning inside. As soon as we were seated, everyone stopped laughing and talking and fell silent.
Then an old man walked slowly in through a doorway that led to a bedroom. He carried a small glass jar filled with greenish liquid in his hands. He held it out to my uncle with a bow.
‘This is a traditional herbal remedy to be used only for emergencies. Only a few drops must be put under the tongue, but it may take hours to show any effect.’
My uncle nodded and reached forward to accept the jar. I watched him closely as he took the glass vial and turned away so no one could see him. After a moment he handed it back.
‘It’s not necessary. I am fine.’
I looked at the men in their strange clothes. I realized that they must have heard that his name was Doctor Mabuse.
When the old man had gone we continued sitting there for a while, until at last everyone seemed ready to start eating. One of the women brought food to the table in bowls and platters, including some of those same tasty leaves. We sat quietly, waiting for them to begin. My uncle stared at me and said nothing. Then someone spoke up:
‘Are you going to give us a lecture now?’
My uncle sighed heavily. ‘No, no lecture. I don’t intend to tell you how wrong your ways are, or about all the evil in the world. That would be pointless.’
Another voice interrupted him from across the room. ‘But you can teach us, surely!’
The old man returned with a jug of something dark and strong smelling. He poured a little of it into a bowl for each person and then everyone raised their cups in unison as he passed out the drinks. Soon afterward the conversation began again and the men started telling jokes and stories. The atmosphere relaxed and soon we were all enjoying ourselves.
At first, the villagers were very wary of our presence, but gradually they grew accustomed to us being there and started to talk openly and comfortably. We found out that they were originally from a nearby island called Nantucket, but for generations, they’d been living on an uninhabitable rock known as Goat Island because the goats had taken over it.
In the past few years, though, there had been an increase in the number of ships sailing along the coast, especially after the Second World War. Some of those vessels were bringing new goods and people, such as the one that had brought them here.
They had hoped to find somewhere where they could live peacefully in safety, but they didn’t expect the ship that had arrived recently – it was one of the huge merchant liners that made regular trips from the mainland and its cargo had included a load of guns and ammunition.
When the ship anchored offshore the men armed themselves and attacked the crew. Their leader managed to kill two men and take one prisoner before the guards opened fire on them. Now there were constant gunfire and cannon blasts echoing across the island, making life intolerable for the inhabitants.
Our host had been born on Goat Island but decided to leave when he was just eight years old and join the fishing fleet based in Nantucket harbor. He had worked his way up to the captain and had sailed all over the world with different crews, returning every two months to trade his catch with the local fishermen and buy supplies for his own family.
As we ate he told us how he had met and fallen in love with his wife when she was a girl and that he had brought her home to meet his parents, but had never expected that they would welcome her as one of their own. It was clear that both the parents and their daughter regarded him with deep affection and respect.
His wife was also present now and I caught her smiling at me as our host talked.
One of his sons-in-law stood up from the other side of the room and began talking about some of the problems facing the community.
They hadn’t seen another ship since the attack on the merchant’s vessel, but it was worrying to know what might happen if the authorities learned that their men had killed so many sailors and that the weapons they had used were stolen from a ship docked at Nantucket.
As a result, the locals had been forced to keep quiet about the incident, fearing retaliation. They knew there would be no end of trouble if they came to blows with the navy, but they feared more of a problem should anyone come by land.
I saw my uncle nodding slowly as he listened to what the young fisherman was saying. Then the conversation drifted on to other topics, which included the latest news from Nantucket. It was bad; apparently, the whole area had been placed under martial law and the government was using warships and air support against resistance groups.
Our host’s son-in-law explained that the main problem was that the government had no clear idea who the rebels were and who they could trust, so they were taking action wherever they thought it most likely to succeed. In some places, it was working, but in others, things were getting out of control.
There was a sense that they were running out of options and it wouldn’t be long before the conflict spilled onto their shores.
Then I noticed that one of the women was looking at me with a worried expression. After the meal ended and we had finished clearing away the plates, I got up to go and see her. She followed me to the back door and we went outside, where I asked if anything was troubling her.
Her answer surprised me: she said she had heard rumors that Captain Aubrey had been seen in New Bedford with a French woman.
‘That’s absurd,’ I said. ‘He has been away in Europe for almost a year now – we’ve only just returned and he isn’t due to sail again for at least another week.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s true – it is not my business to repeat gossip, but I do know that you have been staying with friends while your husband is away and that they are also French.
My brother was in Nantucket at the same time, although he hasn’t been back since the fighting broke out, there are plenty of people who will believe that a Frenchman could make such a close connection with Captain Aubrey without arousing suspicion.’
I couldn’t deny the rumors and wondered why the woman was talking about them, but I had no desire to discuss them with anyone else, so I thanked her for warning me and hurried inside, leaving the question unanswered.
The next morning the captain received a message telling him that it was too dangerous to return to England for the moment. As a result, we spent four days exploring the island and meeting with the local fishermen.
On the second evening of our stay, we were invited to join them for supper, but before that, we went for a walk on a small beach near the house where they lived. It was a warm evening, with only a light breeze blowing and the tide was far out.
The sea shone silver in the moonlight, reflecting off the calm surface; the sky overhead was as clear as glass and there was no sign of cloud cover. I was standing with my back to the house when I heard footsteps behind me and turned round. There was the captain standing there and he had a big smile on his face.
‘There’s nothing quite like this view to remind me what matters most,’ he said.
He took a step forward and then another until I had to turn my body around and face him so that we stood facing each other with our arms stretched out towards the ocean. We looked at each other for a few seconds and then we embraced gently.
He put his hand on my waist and pulled me closer to his chest, holding me tightly and pressing his cheek against mine, his lips moving against my skin. I felt his fingers move down along my back until he reached the hem of my dress and he lifted it slightly so that he could touch bare flesh with his fingertips.
It was a gentle touch, almost featherlike against my skin, but it made me shiver all over. The feeling lasted for a few more moments, then he lowered his hands so that he could take my arms and draw them around his neck, holding me in place with his firm grip. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, ‘Let’s go inside, shall we?’
We walked back towards the house where I saw a number of other couples walking along the sand. It didn’t seem strange to see us together as everyone knew our story and we were regarded as a happy couple, but I sensed that they were wondering why the captain had come back alone and not brought his wife with him.
We arrived back at the house just as someone was coming out of a nearby cottage. The owner came towards us and gave a friendly nod of greeting and then continued on his way without saying anything else.
Once inside, we quickly undressed and went into the living room. I had never seen anything like the room before: it was huge with high ceilings and there were three windows opening out over the water. A large open fire burned in the center of the floor and the captain told me that they had built it themselves after burning down one of the old houses on the property.
It was very romantic, although I could tell it was difficult to heat the whole building with such a small blaze going. We sat together on an ottoman by the fireplace, the flames reflecting in our faces. I felt nervous and excited all at once, not sure which emotion would win out.
The captain reached out for my hand and placed it upon his knee, then moved his arm slowly across to hold my waist, drawing me closer so that our bodies were touching from shoulder to ankle. He kissed my ear, whispering in a voice that was low enough that only I could hear him say, ‘Are you comfortable here? Will you allow me to continue?’
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. For a moment he held me in that position, then drew back slightly to look deep into my eyes.
‘I can’t tell you how much I want this,’ he said, ‘but let’s be clear about something. It has always been my dream to kiss you right now.’
I smiled. ‘You have made that perfectly clear in every other way, Mr. Aubrey,’ I replied.
He took my face in both hands and drew me close to him, kissing me softly while his tongue traced my lips. My mouth opened automatically and his tongue swept in and began stroking mine, coaxing me to relax and let the passion build up inside me.
The kiss lasted for some time and I could feel the tension in my body beginning to ebb away, becoming less and less, until finally it left me entirely and I relaxed into his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder. He took this opportunity to pull me even closer to him and I could feel his cock growing hard beneath my bum.
He broke the kiss again and leaned back, taking his face in both hands, and looking into my eyes.
‘It is time for me to take you upstairs now,’ he said, ‘and I don’t wish to stop until I know that I’ve pleased you thoroughly.’
The tone of his voice made me smile and I felt myself getting wetter. He stood up and pulled me to her feet beside him. We made our way slowly along the wooden stairs and up onto the second story, where there were a number of doors opening outwards across the room.
The first one was a bathroom and we both laughed when we entered it. There was a full-size bathtub made of stone with a brass rail and a shower head fixed above, as well as a small toilet tucked in one corner of the room.
I turned to the captain, who was still holding my hand, and asked, ‘Where are we going?’
‘I have several rooms prepared, but this is the one I think we will use,’ he replied.
He opened a door opposite the entranceway and I followed him through into what appeared to be a small office. It was furnished with a desk and two leather chairs facing each other across a rug, but otherwise, it seemed quite barren and unfurnished.
The captain walked across to the window that was set into one wall; there were shutters on either side of it that could be closed over its glass pane to cut out any light or noise coming from outside. He pushed the right-hand shutter open just enough so that it wouldn’t fall off completely, then returned to his seat beside me and drew me into his arms again.
This time he put his finger on my chin and lifted it up to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with lust as he looked deeply into mine, making me shiver with anticipation.
‘I’m ready,’ he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
As he spoke, the captain removed his jacket and tossed it to one side of the desk, then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off over his head before dropping it to the floor, leaving him clad only in a pair of trousers. He turned around and sat down in the chair before pulling me into his lap again.
He ran his hand gently along my bare stomach, pushing aside the loose material of my dress and feeling the warmth and softness of my skin. He kissed me passionately and I responded eagerly, feeling myself getting more and more aroused at his touch, his taste.
‘I love this,’ he whispered into my ear before biting the lobe playfully. ‘How did I ever get by without such a delightful distraction?’
The End